


To Be Bothered By Your Breath

by avatarish



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, And Sokka likes to eat, Angst, Anniversary, Baking, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Drunken Confessions, Engagement, Falling In Love, Fever, Fluff, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gift Giving, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Panic Attacks, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Scents & Smells, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko likes to bake, so they're the perfect couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23933050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarish/pseuds/avatarish
Summary: I can’t stop thinking about how nice it would be//to be bothered by your breath reclaiming mine.5 things Sokka notices about Zuko during their first year together, and 1 thing he doesn’t notice until it’s staring him in the face.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 106
Kudos: 2878





	1. Pepper

Sokka hadn’t anticipated the sheer number of ice baths he’d be taking during his first month living in Caldera City.

The Fire Nation was, indisputably, way too hot for a guy from the South Pole. The sun slanted through the soft linen of the curtains far earlier in the morning than it did in the Southern Water Tribe, and Sokka was already drenched in sweat. Zuko was awake, of course; his jibe about rising with the sun seemed to have been less a joke and more a fact of life. He was sitting across the room from where Sokka was splayed out across the red sheets, pouring over scroll after scroll of his morning briefing on the state of the nation. He wore only a pair of loose red pants, leaving his back bare. 

Sokka loved Zuko’s back. The first time Sokka had stripped Zuko of his shirt, he’d been delighted to find a constellation of dark freckles across the pale skin of his shoulders. Zuko had been embarrassed, muttering about clear skin and royalty and his stupid father, and Sokka had made it his life’s goal to kiss every single freckle until Zuko got it through his head exactly how gorgeous he was.

So far, it was going well. In fact, he thought, he should really try to make some progress today while he had the chance. 

He slid out of bed, tying his sarashi around his waist, and knelt behind Zuko, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Good morning to me,” he murmured, grinning into the soft skin there.

“Good morning, Sokka,” Zuko said, as close to pleasantly as he’d ever gotten. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm, very.” He slid his arms around Zuko’s waist, fingers trailing along the sides of his stomach. “Have I ever mentioned how insanely beautiful you are?”

Zuko leaned back against him, the muscles in his back rolling against Sokka’s chest. “Once or twice.”

Sokka hummed into the side of Zuko’s neck, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin. Zuko frowned and pulled forward suddenly, making a face.

“You’re soaked in sweat. Go take a bath.”

Sokka spluttered. “Hey! It’s not my fault you live in an actual furnace.”

Zuko chuckled and oh, Sokka would  _ never _ get tired of hearing him laugh. “If you take a bath, I’ll ask Uncle to make that hojicha blend you like.”

“Deal.” 

Sokka padded into the bathroom, the warm tile soothing his sore feet. As the ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe, he’d underestimated just how much he’d need to do. As it turned out, the merchants of the Fire Nation were very interested in trading with his tribe; however, their attempts to make contact were awkward at best. Most of them had never even been outside Caldera City, much less the borders of the Fire Nation. He’d spent most of the last month running back and forth between the major trade hubs of the nation, trying to give the hopelessly lost merchants advice on Water Tribe culture and customs.

If he had to explain to one more merchant that, no, offering the Water Tribe merchants who came to visit fire flakes without warning them what they were was not a good move, he might just explode.

He sank into the cool water of the bath basin with a loud groan, tugging the tie from around his wolftail and letting his hair fall forward. He liked working with Zuko-he liked doing a great many things with Zuko-but he did miss the feeling of cool water, snow, and any temperature that wasn’t boiling hot.

Letting the cold seep into his sweat-soaked skin, he glanced at the shelf next to the bathtub and took in the various jars and bottles there. Most of it was bath salts and sugar scrubs, lotions meant to ease the skin after a long, hot day in the sun. Sokka’s favorite body wash was there, a sweet scent of peppermint and blue cyprus in a green glass container. Next to it was Zuko’s, in a dark glassy bottle that glinted with the sunlight filtering in through the window high up on the wall. 

Sokka loved the way Zuko smelled. Every night, he’d press his nose into Zuko’s long, sleek black hair and inhale the sweet blend of black pine, cedar, and a curious mix of spices that he’d not yet been able to name. 

“You look relaxed.”

Zuko was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d put on his sleeveless wrap robe at some point; it was hanging carelessly off of one shoulder, framing his chest in a way that made Sokka need to rearrange some of the bubbles in the bathtub.

“You should try it some time,” he said, grinning and leaning back against the edge of the basin. 

Zuko walked over and knelt behind him, sliding his hands down Sokka’s chest and back up again, massaging his shoulders. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the curve of Sokka’s ear. 

Sokka inhaled and felt any remaining tension leave his body. “Spirits, you always smell so good. What’s your secret?”

Zuko touched his lips to Sokka’s right collarbone and lazily sucked on the skin there, eliciting a strangled groan. He could feel Zuko grinning against his chest, enjoying the vibrations from where his throat was pressed against Sokka’s shoulder as he spoke. “The main scents are black pine and cedar.”

“I figured those two out,” Sokka mumbled, distracted, “all on my own.”

“But you couldn’t distill the spices,” Zuko whispered into Sokka’s ear, his teeth closing gently around the lobe and tugging.

“Spirits, Zuko,” Sokka said hoarsely, and he could hear how uneven his voice was, “you’re killing me.”

“Clove. Pepper.” He slid a hand up the side of Sokka’s neck, up into the loose strands of hair. “Just a hint of ginger.”

“Spicy.”

“They’re traditional Fire Nation scents.” Zuko’s voice seemed to harden slightly. “These are the scents that my family has worn for generations.”

Sokka turned slightly, scrunching his legs close to him so he could face Zuko. “Does it bother you?”

He seemed to contemplate for a moment, his eyes searching for something in the distance before settling on Sokka, clear and dark. “No. I like that you like how I smell.”

“I’d like how you smell even if you decided to change your soap, you know,” Sokka said softly. He brought a hand up to slide through Zuko’s hair, brushing it behind his ear. “I like how you smell because it’s you that smells that way.”

Zuko ducked his head slightly, cheeks flushing, and Sokka felt a spark of pride that he could make the Fire Lord, almighty bender and defeater of Phoenix King Ozai, blush while he was naked in the bathtub. “You wouldn’t say that if I smelled like a badger-mole.”

“You think I’m letting just anybody who smells spicy hit this?” Sokka gestured grandly down his body. “It’s just you. And, yeah, I’d probably have some questions if you started smelling like you’d been sleeping in a pile of rotting earth, but I’m-” he broke off, then kept going, decisively, “I’m pretty sure I’d still love you.”

He did love Zuko. It’d been a month, but he knew it deep in his chest, could feel the words resonating around inside him. 

He had to admit, though; the look on Zuko’s face when he said it was fully worth the worry that maybe it was too soon. It was like staring into the eclipse. He was going to go blind from staring at that curious mix of emotion.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sokka said, face heating as he stumbled over his words, “I know it’s pretty soon to say something like that, I just-”

And then Zuko was leaning forward, pressing his lips hungrily to Sokka’s. He devoured him, hands sliding up his chest and wrapping around his shoulders to pull him close. His robe was falling into the water but he didn’t seem to care, all his attention on Sokka.

He only pulled away when neither of them could go any longer without a breath, gasping for air. “I love you too,” he said, and the widest grin Sokka had ever seen split across his face. “I was just...surprised, is all. Uncle is the only person who’s ever said that to me.”

“Everybody who hasn’t told you that is a fool,” Sokka replied, and he and Zuko were both surprised at the sudden anger in his tone; Sokka was rarely truly angry. “And you should know that I’m going to tell you that I love you as often as I can until you get so annoyed that you dump me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Zuko pressed a soft kiss to Sokka’s lips. “I love you. Finish your bath and we’ll have breakfast with Uncle.”

“I love you too,” Sokka said as Zuko stood, heading for the door, “and don’t you forget it.”


	2. Panic

The second thing Sokka discovered about Zuko was that he got panic attacks.

_ Bad _ panic attacks. 

Sokka had seen a lot of things in his nineteen years of life. He’d witnessed firsthand the death and destruction that Ozai’s rule had wrought. He’d watched an empire fall at the hands of his closest friends and somehow lived to tell the tale.

None of it prepared him for the late summer afternoon when they were walking back to their chambers after a long day of meetings and he’d placed his hand on Zuko’s lower back without warning. Zuko had frozen abruptly, blood draining from his face.

“Zuko?” Sokka said hesitantly, but he received no response. 

He just...stood there. Unmoving, his eyes open but unfocused, vacant.

Sokka gently propelled him into their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Zuko. Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, but it was distant, and far too quiet.

“I’m going to, uh,” and he ran through a quick list in his head of what he could possibly do in this situation, “get you a cup of water?”

Zuko nodded, sliding his hands slowly down his legs and onto his knees, fingertips digging into the red fabric of his royal robes.

Sokka hurried into the bathroom, filling the cup that sat on the edge of the large basin with cool water, and made his way back to Zuko. He was still sitting up, but his arms had begun to shake.

“Can you tell me what’s happening?” Sokka knelt down in front of him, holding the cup up to his lips. Zuko turned his head to the side, pursing his lips and closing his eyes. 

“It’s-it’s ok, it’ll pass.” He shook his head. 

His arms were shaking even more now. Sokka took hold of one of his hands, fingers sliding up onto his wrist, and felt slightly alarmed at the staccato of Zuko’s pulse, pounding rapidly underneath his skin. “What is it?”

“Panic attack,” Zuko gasped out. He ducked his head down to his knees, breath coming in short pants now.

“Can-is there anything I can do?” Sokka’s hands hovered near Zuko’s knees, not quite touching but far enough within Zuko’s field of vision that he’d know they were there all the same.

“Ice. In a cloth. Please,” Zuko mumbled. His voice was hoarse, breaking on the syllables of each word, and Sokka felt his heart crack just a little.

“Of course. I’ll have to go get some.” He found himself wondering how quickly he could sprint to the kitchens and back. “Will you be ok here alone?”

“Fine.” Zuko wiped the back of his hand roughly across his eyes. “Happens.”

Sokka quickly pressed the gentlest kiss he could manage to the crown of his head, just in front of his headpiece, and took off for the kitchens.

The journey there and back was mostly a blur, his focus entirely on getting back to Zuko as quickly as possible. He wrapped some rapidly-melting lumps of ice in a small hand towel and jogged back to the room, feeling small droplets slide from the towel to his hands as he went.

“Ice,” he panted, thrusting the small bundle at Zuko. He jerked his head in thanks, taking the towel in his shaky hands and pushing it into the front of his robes to rest against his chest, just over his heart. He held out his other hand to Sokka, who grasped it gently, kneeling in front of him and pressing his head to Zuko’s knees, so that his forehead was inches from Zuko’s own.

“You all right?” he whispered. Zuko was taking long, measured breaths, in through his nose and out through his chapped lips. He gave a slight nod and Sokka squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

They’d stayed like that for quite some time. Sokka wasn’t sure how long, but by the time Zuko straightened up, his legs were dead to the world, pins and needles crawling up his calves as he attempted to stand. Zuko had mumbled something and then headed to the bath, but not before pressing a quick kiss to Sokka’s hand.

He emerged nearly an hour later. Sokka had changed into a loose pair of pants and an undershirt, lounging in their shared bed and reading a trade agreement. As Zuko entered, loose pants slung low on his hipbones, he sat up, setting the scroll aside, and pulled the sheets back, settling back against the pillows. Zuko crawled in next to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and curling his head under Sokka’s chin, leg draping over his own.

“Cuddly,” Sokka remarked, kissing Zuko’s forehead. 

He hummed softly in response.

Sokka slid his hand up Zuko’s back, rubbing soft circles into his shoulders. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Zuko seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I...I don’t like it when people touch my lower back from behind. If I can’t see them-if there’s no warning.”

“Got it. I won’t do it again.”

Zuko blinked. “You won’t?”

Sokka frowned. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do it. I want you to feel comfortable with me.” A dark little thing rose in his chest. “Wait, have there been-were there people you told who didn’t care?”

“Fire Nation royalty don’t have weaknesses,” he replied, almost automatically, and then bit his lip. “And they don’t have panic attacks.”

“Zuko, I don’t know if anybody has ever told you this,” Sokka said, and he said it with all the patience and kindness he could muster, “but your family is completely, certifiably, 100% messed up. You deserve way better.”

Zuko snuggled closer to him. “I know. You tell me often.”

“Good,” Sokka said firmly. “I’m going to keep telling you until you fully believe it.” He wound his fingers through Zuko’s soft black hair, detangling it from where it lay damp on his scalp. “Is there anything I should avoid?”

He seemed to consider for a moment. “I don’t like being held down.”

Sokka nodded. “Got it. No kinky bondage sex times for you.” He tilted his head to look down at Zuko. “Well, unless you’d want to hold me down instead. I’d probably be into that.”

Zuko laughed and it sounded like whale bone wind chimes. Sokka loved that sound. “I’ll consider it.”

At some point, they drifted off to sleep together.


	3. Puffs

Sokka woke with a start, the uneasy feeling of having slept in too long crawling under his skin.

He slid out of bed and promptly fell to the floor with a smack, his legs tangled in the red sheets. Sitting up with a groan, he noted the position of the sun with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’d definitely slept through his morning meeting with the trade merchants from the north.

“Why are you on the floor?”

Zuko was standing in the doorway, a tray in his hands and a bemused look on his face. Sokka stared at him for a moment, trying to clear his brain, before struggling upwards, sheets wrapped around his body like a very strangely constructed robe.

“I missed my meeting.” Sokka rubbed his eyes, groaning. “The trade merchants are probably furious-”

“I sent them out for mid-morning tea, courtesy of the royal family.” He set the tray down on the bedside table. The smell of something sweet and buttery wafted towards Sokka.

“What’s that?” 

Zuko smiled mischievously, untying his outer robe and letting it fall to the floor in a puddle before sliding onto the bed, pulling the tray onto his lap. “I thought I’d make you breakfast in bed. You know, as part of your six-month anniversary present.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped, taking in the spread of treats on the tray. “That’s today? Spirits, I forgot. And-wait, you can cook? And you brought me a present? And you-ok, I need just, like, twelve hours to process everything that’s happening right now.”

“Can you get into bed while you process so the bean curd puffs don’t get cold?”

Sokka crawled into bed, dragging the sheets with him and draping them around Zuko’s shoulders. He reached for a bean curd puff and popped it into his mouth, moaning obscenely as it melted on his tongue. “Oh, that’s good. That’s so good. These are my favorite.”

“I know they are.” Zuko blushed as Sokka raised an eyebrow at him, already starting in on a second puff. “Not in a weird way. I’m not stalking you.”

“You’re dating me.” Sokka gestured at him with a bean curd puff. “It’s not weird that you know my favorite food.”

“I asked Katara what I should do,” he said, handing him a cup of gyokuro tea, “and she said ‘Food. What else?’”

“I feel like I should be offended by that, but I’m too invested in this breakfast to care.” Sokka sipped the tea. “Thank you, Zuko. Seriously, this is...it’s really sweet.”

Zuko’s face was flushing brighter red by the second. “It’s no problem.” He took one of the bean curd puffs, biting into it. “Hmm. Could have used a little longer in the oven.”

“And now that my brain’s caught up-” Sokka turned to him, setting his teacup down on the tray, “where did you learn to cook so well?”

Zuko played with the edge of the sheets. “It’s not that great. It’s just bean curd puffs.”

“Zuko. Look at me.” Sokka took his face between both hands. His fingers were slightly sticky from the bean curd. “These are the best bean curd puffs I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot.”

“Thank you.” He ducked his head, smiling, and tried to think of a way to subtly wipe the sticky fingerprints off of his cheeks. 

“So? Tell me the secret!” Sokka jabbed him in the arm with a finger. “I wanna know where, when, and how Fire Lord Zuko, conqueror of the Phoenix King, honorable ruler of the Fire Nation, expert fire bender and second best friend of the Avatar learned to cook.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “That isn’t my full title. At all. I hope that you know that by now.” He frowned. “Wait, why am I Aang’s  _ second _ best friend?”

“It definitely is.” Sokka shoved another bean curd puff into his mouth whole. “As the consort of the Fire Lord, I decree it. And Aang’s first best friend is obviously me. Don’t get jealous.”

“What about Katara?”

Sokka made a face. “They’re in loooove. They’re not friends.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “So because you and I are in love, we’re not friends?”

Sokka doubled back rapidly. “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. We’re friends! Some may even say best friends. Good, close friends who are in love but are also still friends-”

“Calm down. I’m just giving you a hard time.” Zuko took a sip of his own tea. “To answer your question; Ba Sing Se. In Uncle’s tea shop, The Jasmine Dragon. There was a lot of downtime and I had some...unresolved feelings to work out. Baking was a convenient outlet.”

“Wait, your uncle’s tea shop was The Jasmine Dragon?” Sokka’s mouth dropped open. “I used to order cinnamon buns from there. They were the best.”

“ _ You _ were the cinnamon bun guy?” Zuko’s eyes went wide. “You ordered thirty-six buns in three days once.”

“Hey, they were really good!” Sokka said defensively. 

“I can’t believe it,” Zuko said faintly. “Thirty-six buns. We thought you were just hosting a lot of parties.”

“Shut up!” Sokka threw a bean curd puff at Zuko. It bounced off the side of his face, falling onto the floor with a splat. 

“You’re cleaning that up.” Zuko set his tea cup down and moved the now empty tray to the side table. “I can’t believe I’m in love with the cinnamon bun guy.”

“You should take it as a compliment,” Sokka huffed, crossing his arms over his bare chest. 

“I do,” Zuko said softly. He leaned forward, capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss. He ran his hands up Sokka’s sides, sliding them up to his shoulder blades and pressing his palms flat against the warm skin of his back. Sokka’s arms came up to wrap around him, pulling Zuko closer as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down the side of Sokka’s neck to his collarbones.

“Happy six months,” he whispered into the skin there, closing his teeth ever-so-gently around a section of skin and sucking. “Would you like the second half of your present now?”

“I suppose I- _ spirits,  _ Zuko-I’d be up for it,” Sokka said teasingly, though his voice was less than composed. 

Zuko smiled against his chest. 

“You’ll need to unravel these sheets, then.”


	4. Pyrexia

Sokka shot up in bed with a throaty yell, the wrinkled red sheets gripped tightly between his fingers. The nightmare, whatever it had been, had already faded from his mind, but his body hadn’t yet caught up, sweat pouring off of him in waves.

“Sokka?” Zuko mumbed, half-asleep. 

He gasped for breath, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his hand. “Fine. Hh-sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Zuko said, sitting up and pulling the sheets from Sokka’s death grip, replacing them with his hand. He frowned, suddenly, and lifted his other hand to Sokka’s forehead, pressing his palm against it. “You’re very warm.”

“Well, yeah,” Sokka muttered, still trying to catch his breath. “It’s hot as Agni in here.”

“No, I mean you’re  _ too  _ warm.” Zuko pressed two fingers to the side of Sokka’s neck. His pulse was thrumming, erratic. “And your heart is beating too fast.”

“S’just a nightmare,” Sokka ground out. He slid out of bed and stood on wobbly legs, bracing himself against the bedpost. “M’gonna take a bath.”

Zuko glanced out the window and raised an eyebrow. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I’m all sweaty.” Sokka stripped off his sleep tunic, leaving him nearly bare in just his sarashi. He could feel Zuko’s eyes on him, but they were concerned, not aroused.

“Sokka-”

“Spirits,” Sokka muttered, wrestling with the knot holding his sarashi in place. “Won’t come off.”

“Here-” Zuko slid out of bed, reaching for him, but before he could get there, Sokka’s entire body listed to the left, hand coming up to press against his forehead as he groaned.

“I feel...not good,” he mumbled, and pitched forward abruptly.

-

For Zuko, it had felt like slow motion; watching Sokka fall and throwing himself forward to catch him before his head could smack into the bedpost. Now, Sokka was burning up in his arms, skin hot to the touch, and (perhaps most concerningly) completely unconscious. Zuko yanked his sleep robe from where it lay draped over the bedpost and wrapped Sokka in it before hoisting him into his arms, throwing open the door to their quarters with an elbow and jogging awkwardly down the hall towards the medical quarters of the palace.

Halfway there, he rounded a corner and skidded to a stop just before he could trample over his Uncle, walking down the hall in his sleeping robes with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a plate of pau buns in the other. 

Iroh dropped both when he saw Sokka’s limp form in Zuko’s arms. “Lord Zuko! What has happened?”

“Sokka is sick.” Zuko hated how helpless he sounded. He tried to school his voice into something a little more fitting for the ruler of a nation, but he couldn’t do it. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He woke up from a nightmare and he was sweaty and collapsed-”

“Come with me.” Iroh turned on his heel and strode down the hall at a fast clip, and Zuko followed, shifting his arms to better support Sokka’s weight.

Zuko followed Iroh into the medical quarters and set Sokka down on the pallet in the middle of the room. Iroh was already busy grinding something up in a small mortar bowl, his hands reaching for jars and bottles on the shelf above the small table as if it was second nature. Zuko knelt down and brought Sokka’s head up to rest on his thighs, brushing his loose hair away from his sweat-soaked forehead.

“Here,” Iroh said gently, kneeling down next to Zuko and handing him a cloth soaked in cold water. Zuko pressed the cloth to Sokka’s forehead, patting it down the sides of his face.

“What’s that?” Zuko asked, gesturing to the bowl in Iroh’s hands as he waited for Sokka to wake up.

“An old fever remedy.” Iroh tilted the bowl back and forth and the contents swirled around merrily. “Passed down through generations of fire benders. This was what I gave to you in Ba Sing Se when you were sick with the fever.”

Zuko pressed the compress against Sokka’s right cheek, gently tracing the other with his thumb. 

“When he wakes up, have him drink it.” Iroh set the bowl down gently next to Zuko and briefly rested a hand on his shoulder before standing. “I will go make a fresh pot of tea. There is no worry that tea cannot solve.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said quietly. He shifted his legs into a crossed position and settled Sokka’s head in his lap, pressing the cold towel to his forehead and praying to Agni that he would wake up soon.

-

Sokka’s mouth was so, so incredibly dry. It felt drier than the time he’d drank the cactus juice, drier even than the endless days before and after it traveling the desert. 

He cleared his throat weakly, grimacing as his words seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. “Hnng...Zuko?”

“Sokka,” Zuko breathed. He pressed his hand to Sokka’s cheek, wincing at the burning heat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Hot. And...nauseous.” He coughed. “What happened?”

“You collapsed,” Zuko said quietly. “You have a very high fever.”

“Oh.” Sokka hummed. “That explains why it feels like my skin is on fire.”

“Here.” Zuko held a bowl up to his lips and Sokka drank greedily, grimacing as his mouth flooded with not water, but a concoction of herbs and spices.

“Gross,” he croaked out as the last of the sludge slid down his throat.

“It’s not exactly tasty,” Zuko agreed. “But it’ll make you better. And it’ll take your fever down. You need to cool off.”

Sokka grinned weakly. “So you’re saying I’m hot.”

“Don’t joke about this,” Zuko snarled. “You were two inches away from cracking your head open on the bedframe. If I hadn’t caught you-”

Sokka looked up as Zuko’s words broke off, trying to catch a glimpse of his golden irises, but his eyes were shut, lashes fluttering against his cheek. “Zuko?”

Zuko angled his head away and picked up the cold compress, pressing it against Sokka’s forehead again.

“Zuko,” Sokka whispered, wincing as the words scraped against his throat. “Look at me.”

He opened his eyes abruptly, staring down at Sokka. Sokka loved Zuko’s eyes, but not like this; not when they were red and raw, barely holding back tears.

“I love you?” Sokka said, the only thing he knew how to say when nothing else seemed right, and he worried that it was the wrong choice when Zuko began to cry. “Oh, spirits, Zuko, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Zuko mumbled, wiping the tears off of his cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you too, you idiot.”

“Hey, now,” Sokka protested weakly, smiling up at him. “It’s mean to call your sick boyfriend an idiot.”

“I know you’re delirious from fever,” Zuko continued, voice unsteady, “but I-Sokka, I love you.”

“Are you sure  _ I’m _ the delirious one?” Sokka teased. “You already said that, jerkbender.”

“I’m in love with you.” Zuko’s face was serious enough that Sokka felt the humor drain out of his smile. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The idea that you might have-that you could have been in serious danger-”

“I’m okay.” Ignoring the way his arms felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, Sokka reached up, placing his hands on Zuko’s cheeks and tracing the underside of his jaw with his thumbs. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Zuko closed his eyes again, tears running down his face and dripping onto Sokka’s forehead. Sokka let his arms fall to his sides, exhausted, and he turned to snuggle further into Zuko’s lap, cheek pillowed against the soft silk of the robe covering his thigh. Zuko leaned down, pressing his lips to the tip of Sokka’s ear.

“I love you,” he whispered, hands sliding across Sokka’s shoulders and tracing his collarbones. 

Sokka looked up at him with sleepy eyes.

“I know.”


	5. Pretty

The South Pole had not gotten any warmer since the last time Zuko had been there. 

If anything, he thought it’d gotten colder. He’d had the good fortune this time around of visiting with a native of the area, though, and Sokka had been sure to pack plenty of warm clothes for him, citing both the freezing temperatures and Zuko’s own lack of self-preservation.

Still, the nights were just as bone-chillingly cold as always, and when the sun had gone down and Chief Hakoda had asked them to join the older men and women of the tribe for evening festivities, Zuko had respectfully declined. He’d returned to the guest quarters and wrapped himself in the thickest blankets he could find until Sokka returned, late into the night and very much not sober.

Zuko shivered, tugging the thick turtle-seal skin blanket tighter around himself as Sokka shook the snow from his clothes. “You were gone for awhile.”

“Dad and I ended up drinking with the other warriors,” Sokka said, a slightly lopsided grin on his face. He stumbled forward, trying and failing to untie the laces on the front of his parka. 

Zuko stood, wrapping the blanket regally around his frame and helping Sokka undress. “So I see. And what did you drink?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Sokka said airily, waving his hand around and nearly knocking the torch off the wall in the process. Zuko steadied it with a flick of his hand. “Whatever Dad was having, mostly.”

“You should lie down, then.” Zuko watched as Sokka peeled his tunic off of his shoulders without untying his belt, looking confused when his arms became stuck. “Considering that your father is the width and breadth of two Sokkas, you must be very drunk.”

Sokka giggled. “Yeah.”

“Come on, my love,” Zuko said fondly, helping Sokka remove his tunic and lowering him to the bedroll. “We have to be up early tomorrow to meet with the export merchants. The more sleep you get, the less ice water I’ll have to throw on you to wake you up in the morning.”

“You’re so smart, Zuko!” Sokka spread out across the bedroll, closing his eyes and sighing happily. “I love you. Can’t wait to marry you. You’re so pretty.”

Zuko stopped halfway down to the bedroll, his knees protesting the strange squatting position. “What?”

“I said,  _ you’re so pretty _ ,” Sokka repeated loudly. “Like a fish.”

“No, you said-never mind.” Zuko shook his head, laughing to himself. “Like a fish? Really?”

“If I squint,” Sokka mumbled, putting up his hands in a frame shape, “you kinda look like Tui and La.”

“You really are one of a kind, you know that?” Zuko laid down next to him, dragging the thick blankets at the base of the bedroll over them both as Sokka snuggled up against his back. “Get some sleep.”

Sokka was asleep in moments, snores reverberating through the icy ground beneath them. Zuko, however, lay awake for hours, thoughts racing-and by the time the sun rose, he’d made a decision.

-

Someone had, in his sleep, removed his brain and filled his head with turtle-seal blubber. It sloshed around in his skull, warping the insistent voice nagging at him into a strange pitch.

Zuko’s face floated at the edge of his vision. “I’m just going to keep repeating your name until you wake up. Sokka. Sokka. Sokka. Sokka. Sokk-”

“Hhhhng.” 

Sokka sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. “What time s’it?”

“The meeting with the export merchants went smoothly. As did the two follow-up meetings with the renovation council, if that gives you any indication.”

“What?” Sokka shrieked, shooting up out of bed onto unsteady legs and almost immediately clutching his head. “Ow. Tui and La, that  _ hurts _ .”

“Speaking of Tui and La,” Zuko said, offering him a cup of water, “do you remember telling me that I was pretty “like a fish” last night?”

“I...no?” Sokka said weakly, taking gulps of the water in between words. “I don’t remember much after Dad and Bato started arm wrestling.”

“I see.” Zuko took the empty cup from him.

“Why? Sokka asked suspiciously, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Did I say something embarrassing?”

“Nothing other than the fish thing,” Zuko said smoothly. He picked up Sokka’s tunic from the floor and tossed it to him. “Get dressed. Katara wants you to go on a walk with her and Aang.”

Sokka frowned. “You’re up to something. I can tell.”

“We’re in the middle of a frozen wasteland,” Zuko said exasperatedly. “What could I possibly be up to?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka mused. “But I’m sure I’ll find out eventually. I’m an excellent detective, you know.”

“I know. Katara’s told me all about it.” Zuko waited until Sokka had bent over to tie the laces on his boots before fondly rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you when you get back?”

Sokka nodded, crossing over and giving Zuko a light peck on the lips. “I’ll see you. Love you, jerkbender.”

“I love you too,” Zuko said softly, smiling and feeling the telltale blush rise in his cheeks. 

Sokka stepped back, tilting his head and observing Zuko for a moment, before nodding decisively. “Drunk me was right with whatever he said about you. You’re pretty.”

Zuko watched Sokka make his way through the newly fallen snow and smiled at his retreating back before pulling on his parka and making his way to Chief Hakoda’s hut.

He had an important meeting to keep.


	6. Peace

“You’re asking us to give up part of our market to outsiders? Never!”

“It’s a compromise, Minister Shei! We’re sharing a customer base as it is-”

“The Water Tribe peasantry have no place in our markets-”

“Gentlemen!” Sokka stood abruptly, hands bracing against the table in front of him. “Let’s at least try to be civil.”

Minister Shei crossed his arms, glaring across the table at his counterpart. “I will if he can.”

The other minister, Akiro, glared right back. “Fine.”

“Might we adjourn for the day?” Another minister from further down the expansive table--Lan? Sho? Sokka could never keep them all straight in his head--chimed in. “The sun has nearly set.”

Sokka sighed. “Fine. We’ll resume this conversation tomorrow. Shei, Akiro, I’m expecting good attitudes tomorrow.”

Shei snorted and Akiro grunted, but both nodded as they rose from the table, respectfully murmuring twin “Ambassador Sokka”’s and filing out amidst the quiet buzz from the other departing members of the trade council. Sokka shuffled the papers on the table in front of him, cursing as he realized he’d failed to request Councilman Yan’s monthly expenditure reports and pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache.

“You look terrible.”

Sokka rubbed both hands over his face and groaned as Zuko swept up behind him, hands sliding with comforting pressure onto his shoulders. “I feel terrible.”

“Come on.” Zuko swung around in front of him, pulling him up out of his chair and propelling him towards the door. “You need to take a break.”

“I don’t have time,” Sokka said miserably, though he let Zuko push him out and down the hallway. “I have so much paperwork to do before tomorrow’s meetings, and I forgot to ask Yan for his reports, and I need to finish the projections for textile sales-”

“Sokka.”

“-and the reimbursements for the Water Tribe merchant visas are already way overdue-”

“Sokka.”

“-and don’t even get me started on Shei and Akiro, honestly, I can’t tell if they really hate each other or if they just need to bone-”

“Sokka!” Zuko whirled around, grabbing his shoulders and holding him still where he stood.

Sokka stared at him, eyes wide. “What?”

Zuko gestured around them with a look that Sokka would only ever take from him and him alone. “We’re here?”

“What-oh.” Sokka tilted his head back to take in the view, eyes wide. “Oh. Wow.”

Zuko had led them to a small balcony at the back of the palace, high up enough to overlook the entire caldera. A tall, ancient oak tree shaded them from the sun, and the hard rock of the floor was draped with blankets and cushions, a steaming pot of tea resting in the middle.

“Sit.” Zuko pushed Sokka down onto a cushion before removing his formal outer robe and draping it gracefully on the edge of the balcony. He knelt across from Sokka, pouring two cups of tea.

“This is beautiful.” Sokka took the cup that Zuko offered him, sipping the jasmine blend slowly and letting its flavor seep into his tongue. 

“I used to come here when I was a boy,” Zuko said softly. “It was one of the only places that was mine. I didn’t have to be Ozai’s son, or Azulon’s grandson, or the crown prince of the Fire Nation--I could just be me. Just for a little bit.”

“And you’re okay sharing it with me?” Sokka said, eyes wide.

Zuko laughed and  _ spirits _ , after nearly a year Sokka knew he’d never get tired of the sound of it. “Sokka, you could ask me for just about anything and I would say yes. I hope you know that by now.”

“It’s just-” Sokka gazed out over the view in front of them. The sun was hovering just on the edge of the volcano, casting long amber shadows over the caldera below. He could imagine Zuko, small and alone, kneeling as he was now and staring at that same sun, grasping at some small semblance of peace. “I know what it means, to have something that’s just for you and you alone when nothing ever is.”

Zuko ran a long finger idly along the curve of one of the branches of the tree that bent above them. “It was a place of solace when I needed it.”

He turned to Sokka, the sun casting golden light across his smile. “And now I have you.”

Sokka felt his cheeks heat up in an uncharacteristic blush. “You’re a big sap, Fire Lord Zuko.”

Silence fell over the two of them, the sun dipping lower behind the jagged edges of the volcano. Zuko reached over and retrieved a small box from behind one of the cushions, staring at Sokka hesitantly for a moment before holding it out to him. “Here. I made you something.”

“Wow, tea, a gorgeous view,  _ and _ a gift?” Sokka joked, untying the soft red ribbon and letting it curl in a spiral onto the ground, lifting the lid of the small wooden box. “What did I do to deserve-”

He broke off suddenly, staring down at the carefully carved circle of alabaster whalebone resting inside, the last rays of daylight reflecting off the blue silk of the attached neck band. 

“Whalebone is often brittle,” Zuko said, leaning forward and taking the necklace from the box with delicate hands. “It needs to mature before it can be carved properly. Even then, it can splinter with one wrong move. But, in the hands of the right person…”

The silk of the engagement necklace brushed against Sokka’s collarbones and slid up to wrap around his neck, fastened in the back by Zuko’s nimble fingers.

“...something beautiful can be created from it.”

“This is what you and Dad were doing at the South Pole,” Sokka murmured.

“I hope you like it,” Zuko said softly. One of his hands was still resting on the side of Sokka’s throat, brushing through the soft hair at the base of his skull. “I know the carving is a little unusual for Water Tribe custom, but…”

Sokka’s fingers sought out the cool ivory where it rested in the hollow of his throat, tracing over the carving of waves cresting over a small flame. “No, no, Zuko, it’s...it’s perfect. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“I love you.” Zuko brought his hand up to cup Sokka’s cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin below his eye. 

Sokka leaned forward, pressing his lips to Zuko’s and bringing his hands up to slide into his sleek black hair. Zuko leaned into the kiss for a moment before pulling back, pressing their foreheads together with eyes closed. The moon had begun to rise, bathing them both in a soft white light.

Zuko chuckled. “Looks like Yue approves.”

“Yue thinks you’re cool.” Sokka leaned back against the cushions, pulling Zuko with him to rest against his chest. “We talk about you every once in awhile.”

“Good.” Zuko pressed a kiss along the line of Sokka’s jaw.

“Though, speaking of getting approval…” Sokka stared up at the stars and forced a look of fake seriousness onto his face. “I call not being the one to tell Katara that you’re going to be her brother-in-law.”

“...I changed my mind. Give me back the necklace.”

“Too late!” Sokka crowed, grinning at Zuko’s fake pout and shouting off the edge of the balcony into the warm summer night. 

“We’re getting married, world!”

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics in description from Indigo by Kississippi (a real Zuko/Sokka slow jam)


End file.
